In my mind, winter holidays in the Northern Hemisphere are all about helping us keep our spirits bright in the darkest of times. We bring light and greenery and festive foods into our homes, where we’re sheltering from the cold. The holiness of these days is the turning inward, the transformation of outward energy into spiritual reserves for hard times ahead. In my life, music has always been fun and spiritual and central to this season. Next weekend, I will be singing a piece called Nordic Light by Eriks Eisenvalds – a multi-media production including choir, orchestra, and video. It’s a haunting portrayal of the aurora borealis and the lore it lends to Arctic Circle cultures. The choir will be in the dark while the video is playing. The second half of the concert is carols of Christmas, much more warm and full of light.
This past weekend, in the same venue where I will be performing, I was a front-row guest at a concert by a 4-time Grammy winning Hawaiian singer. There was a cultural fair in the lobby before the show with dancers and vendor booths. It was a very colorful and joyful atmosphere, with lots of dancing, shouting, and clapping, and messages of love, acceptance, and support.
At this point in my journey, I am enjoying the pluralism and diversity of the human experience. There are so many ways to make meaning of this gift of Life, so many ways to celebrate and empathize and explore. I look forward to seeing your visual perspectives in this beautiful photo challenge. Thank you, Ann-Christine, for your absolutely stunning post introducing this theme! See it HERE.
“If I had wings no one would ask me should I fly The bird sings, no one asks why I can see in myself wings as I feel them If you see something else, keep your thoughts to yourself I’ll fly free then” – song by Peter, Paul, and Mary
“Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly.” – Langston Hughes
Wings – a symbol of freedom, of dreams soaring, of hope rising – have been assigned to so many types of animals: insects, birds, mammals (my last photo is a little bat asleep in a tree in Death Valley), and even some reptiles and fish. But each and every one of these wing-bearers return to a resting state at some point, fold their wings, and save their energy. I wonder at the moment when they know it’s time to soar. What propels them, emotionally? Fear? Purpose? Exhilaration?
“Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul And sings the tune without the words And never stops – at all” – Emily Dickinson
I had a dream about flying recently. I have those dreams periodically. But I never have physical wings in those dreams. What I have is a secret knowledge that I can lift off the ground and glide around…and that others cannot. I’m never completely certain of it, but while it’s working, it feels miraculous and special and effortless. I wake from those dreams with a sense of wonder and joy.
“The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science.” ― Albert Einstein, The World As I See It
“We need the tonic of wildness…At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.” ― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods
The lure of mystery is perhaps a fundamental part of being human. We yearn to know and understand and fill our large brains with certainty, and yet, we are enthralled by those things that are beyond our scope. We are forever asking questions and posing stories. When I think of how mystery is portrayed in images, I immediately think of black and white photography. There’s something iconic and photojournalistic about the feel of monochrome. And there’s a philosophical point in trying to capture reality in black and white while always including a million shades of gray. Cinematically, there’s the trick of using black & white film to depict a night time scene that was actually shot during the daytime. Is that moonlight? Or sunlight?
Alfred Hitchcock built his legendary fame by creating cinematic mystery. One technique he used was high angle shots in dramatically contrasting black & white.
Perhaps mystery is where curiosity and fear intersect. Do you really want to know what lies ahead?
When the scene is painted in shades of gray and the picture seems a bit hazy, almost anything is possible. What would you like to happen?
“There comes . . . a longing never to travel again except on foot.” ― Wendell Berry, Remembering
“I was the world in which I walked, and what I saw Or heard or felt came not but from myself; And there I found myself more truly and more strange.” ― Wallace Stevens, The Collected Poems
“Above all, do not lose your desire to walk: every day I walk myself into a state of well being and walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it.” ― Søren Kierkegaard
Traveling on foot is my favorite way to see the world. It calms the anxieties that arise when I try to go far and fast. I like noticing small details. I like stopping to take in the perspective of my surroundings and my inner thoughts. I like relying on my own body and appreciating it. I am content with the beauty and wonder that I’ve been able to encounter in the areas I’ve ambled. I also enjoy seeing photos of places upon which I will never set foot. There is so much to enjoy on this amazing planet!
Do you have favorite viewpoints you go back to – for perspective, for nostalgia, for inspiration?
Iron Mountain, Cascades
This week’s Lens-Artists challenge invites us to revisit Landscapes, a theme that was also assigned in 2019. When I did that original challenge, I was living in Wisconsin. You can view the post I created HERE. I wrote that landscapes are my favorite photographic subject and that I wanted my soul to be a landscape – a place where I have a broad view of a larger reality, where Beauty and Life surround me and produce the thing I call Love.
Since then I have moved to Oregon, and found new Love all around.
Nye Beach, NewportStrawberry Mountain WildernessWilliam L. Finley National Wildlife RefugeAlsea Falls State Recreation AreaMy driveway
Thanks to Egidio for inviting us to share our landscapes and for his superb selection of examples.
“We have not long to love. Light does not stay. The tender things are those we fold away. Coarse fabrics are the ones for common wear. In silence I have watched you comb your hair. Intimate the silence, dim and warm. I could but did not, reach to touch your arm. I could, but do not, break that which is still. (Almost the faintest whisper would be shrill.) So moments pass as though they wished to stay. We have not long to love. A night. A day….” ― Tennessee Williams, The Collected Poems
The Wheel of the Year has turned to Samhain, midway between the Fall Equinox and the Winter Solstice. In the northern hemisphere, the solar winter has now begun. It is the time of year when many cultures honor their ancestors, for the veil between the earthly world and the spirit world is thin.
The trail around Cabell Marsh in Finley National Wildlife Refuge is now closed to hikers until April first so that overwintering birds will not be disturbed. Last week, I saw white pelicans, great blue herons, snowy egrets, tundra swans, Dusky Canada geese, ducks, and nutria in the silent fog.
The wispy traces of light and web and cloud and spirit float away in the blink of an eye. What remains is the feeling that I have been visited by beauty and embraced in Life, a feeling that I call Love.
A Samhain Blessing
May the ancestors deliver blessings on you and yours May the new year bear great fruits for you May your granted wishes be as many as the seeds in a pomegranate May the slide into long nights bring you light May the memories of what has been keep you strong for what is to be May this Samhain cleanse your heart, your soul and your mind! Blessed Be. –Unknown
I dream of a world where Love is the currency that matters. It is invested, returned, compounded, treasured, and generously spread. It flows on every level, in every relationship, from the smallest interaction between particles to the most complex interdependence of galaxies. It is recognized as the force and the source of this marvelous gift we call Life. It creates abundance, beauty, goodness, and balance. Like water, it is soft and powerful, creating transformation over time, shaping wonders as majestic as the Grand Canyon.
Thanks, Ann-Christine, for allowing me to dream a bit, imagining the satisfaction of my yearning.
“Well, the sun’s not so hot in the sky today and you know I can see summertime slipping on away. A few more geese are gone, a few more leaves turning red, but the grass is as soft as a feather in a featherbed. So I’ll be king and you’ll be queen, our kingdom’s gonna be this little patch of green. Won’t you lie down here right now in this September grass?” – James Taylor, September Grass
“Well, I’m-a going back down, maybe one more time Deep down home, October road And I might like to see that little friend of mine That I left behind once upon a time Oh, promised land and me still standing It’s a test of time, it’s a real good sign Let the sun run down right behind the hill I know how to stand there still ‘Til the moon rise up behind the pine, oh, Lord October road, an October road October road” – James Taylor, October Road
“And when October goes The snow begins to fly Above the smokey roofs I watch the planes go by The children running home Beneath a twilight sky Oh, for the fun of them When I was one of them” – Barry Manilow, When October Goes
I feel the shift in seasons deeply in my soul. The loss of summer hits like grief falling in raindrops, the darkness descending earlier and earlier each day. But then, those sunny fall days when the colors pop and beckon remind me that I can live in this place of heightened appreciation and nostalgia. I amble more slowly through the leaves, aware of the passing of time and the gift of life. I love this season in a different way than I love summer. And when it gets even colder, I will mourn the fading light and the maple leaves. But I will love the rain that fills the marshes and the ribbons of migrating birds.
Life is a gift, in any season. Thanks, Johnbo, for inviting remembrance of beautiful Autumns. I have two past posts on this theme, with large galleries of photos from my life in the Midwest. You can see them HERE and HERE.
Olympic National ParkOlympic National ParkCrater Lake National ParkBadlands National ParkBadlands National ParkBandelier National MonumentWilliam L. Finley National Wildlife RefugeApostle Islands National LakeshoreSturgeon River Gorge Wilderness
Everyone should see our nationally protected parks, monuments, lakeshores, and wilderness areas as beautifully sacred places that deserve to be stewarded with respect. Everyone should be given the hope to see our nationally protected lands and rest assured that the government will preserve them for present and future generations.
May it be so.
Welcome, Joanne Mason, guest Lens-Artist challenger this week.
scillagrace 